


The problem with Hufflepuff

by SammyOliviaWatson, sevtacular



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Holby City
Genre: F/F, Gen, they are children - Freeform, this is a HP crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammyOliviaWatson/pseuds/SammyOliviaWatson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/pseuds/sevtacular
Summary: Bernie Wolfe is sorted into Hufflepuff despite her family having been Gryffindor for centuries and is upset. Another girl comes along and notices, the beginning of a wonderful friendship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Holby City fanfiction contest back in... I believe november. I now got around to actually upload it... anyways, I hope you'll like it!  
> (And Sev, you are amazing, I want to say again what a spectacular job you did at polishing this fic and making it shine and have a point and the ending you wrote... thank you for being my friend and talented and working with me.)

Bernie Wolfe had been nervous all evening, but it was worst when the Sorting Hat was placed on her head.

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor,” she chanted in her head.

The hat interrupted her thoughts:

“Are you sure, young woman?”

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, please put me in Gryffindor,” she thought fervently.

“Oh Bernie,” the head quietly uttered. “I am very sorry, but I can see that Gryffindor would not make you as happy as you think. So” and Bernie felt its presence shifting from inside her head to the outside world again, “HUFFLEPUFF” the hat shouted, leaving Bernie’s ears ringing.

The Hufflepuff table erupted into cheers, Bernie was in a daze as she walked over to them. How could that happen? How could she be a Hufflepuff? She told herself that it couldn’t be real and must be a nightmare. She pinched herself, but she didn’t wake up.

She was hugged and welcomed at the table, but she did not actively engage as it happened. She felt scared and was still hoping that despite everything it might just be a bad dream.

When the welcoming feast was finally over and they had been escorted to their common room and everyone had settled and unpacked, and all the excitement had died down, she again realised what had happened and it felt suffocating.

Grabbing a candle, she ran out her common room and into the halls but she didn’t make it far before she broke into sobs. She was a Hufflepuff. Her brothers, her father, her mother were Gryffindors, no one in her family had ever been anything else but a Gryffindor. For hundreds of years her family had been Gryffindor. She had broken the trend. What had she done to deserve this? She felt helpless. Why was she not a Gryffindor? What was wrong with her?

She heard footsteps and backed up into a nearby alcove that would hide her if the person wasn’t looking too closely. She tried to stop her weeping. The footsteps stopped, and Bernie looked to see who else was wandering dark corridors in the late evening.

It was a girl, another first year, Bernie thought. She was chubby, but she looked friendly with her brown hair, brown eyes and concerned smile.

“What happened?” she asked.

Bernie tried to talk between her sobs, but it was no help.

The other girl sat down beside Bernie and hugged her.

It took Bernie a long time to calm down, but the other girl’s presence gave her comfort. When the sobs had died down and her companion’s jumper was wet from Bernie’s tears, the kind girl asked:

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Um,” Bernie answered, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“I’m a Hufflepuff.” She hid her face in shame at the confession.

“Why is that bad?” The girl rubbed soothing circles onto Bernie’s back.

“I am not supposed to be a Hufflepuff,” she mumbled into her shoulder, then looked at her and sighed.

“All my family have been Gryffindors, for hundreds of years. I am the first Hufflepuff. I am not supposed to be Hufflepuff. I can’t be.”

The girl hugged her again.

“Do houses matter that much?” She sounded truly puzzled.

“To my family, they do. My father calls me ‘lioness’, Gryffindor’s animal. Gryffindors are brave. Hufflepuffs are… I don’t even know what Hufflepuffs are! Nice? Hufflepuff doesn’t matter on the frontline, but Gryffindor does. All the war heroes are Gryffindors. I want to be an Auror and go to war.”

“Why would a Hufflepuff not be able to do that?”

Bernie stared at her through the darkness. She had thought it was obvious, but she herself didn’t have an answer to that.

“Who are you even?” Bernie asked instead.

“Serena McKinnie,” she smiled, seeming satisfied that Bernie was much less upset. She nodded at the unlit candle at Bernie’s feet. “I think you’re meant to light it.” She touched her wand to the wick and muttered an Incendio charm, as Bernie gaped. Serena was talented. Bernie frowned. She’d never been told of a powerful McKinnie family.

“Why did you come down here?”

“I wanted to look at the kitchens. I heard that house elves work there and I’ve never seen one.” She shrugged in slight embarrassment.

“You have never seen a house elf?” Bernie exclaimed in amazement.

Bernie pulled them both up and led them hand in hand to the kitchens.

The house elves looked up when they entered but got on with their work of cleaning up the remains of the feast.

“Don’t they have clothes?” Serena whispered into Bernie’s ear.

“No,” Bernie whispered back, “if their master gives them a piece of clothing, they are freed.”

“Don’t they want to be free?”

“No they don’t.”

An elf approached them with a beaming face, saying “Master Bernie! Hipsy is so happy to see you!”

“I am happy to see you too, Hipsy!” Bernie smiled, then turned to Serena to explain. “Hipsy is Boky’s sister. Boky is our house elf. Hipsy visits us often.” She turned to Hipsy. “This is Serena,” she explained, still holding her hand.

“Hipsy is honoured to meet you, Master Serena,” Hipsy said and bowed before them. “What do I do?” Serena whispered into Bernie’s ear.

“You don’t need to do anything.”

“I am honoured to meet you too, Hipsy.”

Hipsy bowed again before excusing herself and going back to work.

“Why don’t your family have house elves?” Bernie turned to Serena, briefly wondering why the way the candlelight was flickering across her friend’s face made her stomach flip.

“I’m the first witch in my family.” She shrugged. Bernie gasped.

“You’re… You’re… Not a pureblood? But you’re so good!” Bernie looked away then, and back at the girl. “I’m not allowed to be friends with anyone but purebloods. My family said so.” She felt her heart weaken at the thought of losing the first proper friend she’d made so far at school. Serena looked at her, a hurt expression across her face, before it turned into one of determination.

“Your family wanted you to be Gryffindor too. It is impossible to live without failing at something. Maybe their expectations are unrealistic. I thought my abnormalities made me a failure, and it turned out I am magical. I vow to make the most of my time here. Why don’t you?” Bernie gaped at Serena. She was so wise. And so pretty. And so kind. Bernie looked down and smiled shyly at her.

“Yes. Why don’t I? Now, I’m really in the mood for that piece of chocolate cake on the side.”

“So am I, actually. Do you want to toss for it?”

“I saw it first!” Bernie went to grab it, and Serena stopped her, laughing.

“I’ll arm wrestle you for it.” She met Bernie’s eyes, and Bernie raised her eyebrows, as they sat down at the bench.

In the end, the outcome didn’t matter. In the flickering candlelight, two first year girls sat sharing a piece of chocolate cake, surrounded by the feeling that they would become very good friends indeed during the seven years ahead of them. The future was as bright as the flame between them.


End file.
